Intoxicant
by mudgems
Summary: Seems our errant linguist, in a fit of inebriated pique, suggested one of the village elders might like to make himself intimately acquainted with an anatomically awkward appendage. Or something to that effect. I don't speak the language, but I got the gist. I think we all did. Vala POV


**Fandom:** Stargate SG-1

 **Title:** Intoxicant

 **Rating:** PG

 **Genre/pairing/warnings:** Daniel/Vala pre-relationship. Humour, Action-Adventure, h/c. Vala POV.

 **Setting:** Post- _Ark of Truth_.

 **Word count:** 5,637

 **Summary:** _Seems our errant linguist, in a fit of inebriated pique, suggested one of the village elders might like to make himself intimately acquainted with an anatomically awkward appendage. Or something to that effect. I don't speak the language, but I got the gist. I think we all did._

Daniel's no lightweight, that's for sure. Well, I mean clearly he _is_ , as evidenced by his almost complete inability to 'hold his liquor' as the quaint Earth phrase goes, but in terms of actual body mass, he's pretty darn heavy.

As Cameron put it, we're 'tag-teaming', one of us under each arm and swapping out every quarter hour or so as we hightail it back to the 'gate. Seems our errant linguist, in a fit of inebriated pique, suggested one of the village elders might like to make himself intimately acquainted with an anatomically awkward appendage. Or something to that effect. I don't speak the language, but I got the gist. I think we all did.

The locals were quite comical really, and I'd have found the whole situation a lot more funny if things hadn't turned nasty. The collective gasp and stunned silence was followed frighteningly quickly by angry spitting, shouting and arm waving. There were cufty-fists, and when the crowd started reaching en masse for the nearest pointy objects, we decided it was time to beat a hasty retreat. We're being chased out of town like we'd threatened to start eating babies.

"Beware the welcome wagon that includes a complimentary beverage. Damn, Jackson. Teal'c, take over for me here a sec, would ya?"

Cameron shrugs out from under Daniel's arm without breaking stride. He takes the machete from Teal'c's hand and the Jaffa smoothly takes up his place. Cam massages his shoulder and gingerly investigates the bruise developing across his cheekbone with a wince. It's already turning a pleasing shade of purple. A parting gift from our new friends.

"Are you managing, Vala Mal Doran?"

I flash Muscles a smile and throw in a thumbs up for good measure, a gesture I've been practicing and possibly overdoing just a tad these last few days. I'm growing quite fond of Earth's many hand signals and idioms and I'm determined to master them. Admittedly I'm not doing much of the heavy lifting here - I suppose you could say I'm offering more of the moral kind of support - but we've found that if one of the others tries to take my place Daniel starts yelling. At one point there was something suspiciously close to crying too.

"What do you think could have been in that stuff?" Sam asks from where she's hurriedly covering our six. "I've never seen him like this." She scans behind us again with her weapon at the ready, but it's mainly for show. So far our entourage has been keeping a respectful, if insistent, distance.

Cameron slashes another piece of wickedly jagged jungle shrubbery from our path and shrugs dramatically, raising his arm for another swing. "Jet fuel? Whatever it was, it packs one hell of a punch."

"Perhaps the natives of this world have developed a tolerance for the intoxicant," Teal'c adds.

Thinking back, we perhaps should have stepped in sooner. But then he's usually so _good_ at these things. The last thing we expected was to have to second-guess his judgement. As it turned out, we were in for quite a surprise.

Daniel had managed barely a reluctant sip from the proffered bowl (of what Cameron has since christened 'jungle juice') before stifling a choke and politely refusing any more. If they hadn't been so pushy about it I don't think he would have risked any at all, but after watching each of our hosts throw back a mouthful and then present the remaining liquid to him so reverently, humble head bowing and all, he could hardly have said no. He'd given us all a significant look and the slightest of head shakes in warning, but luckily the welcoming committee had appeared satisfied with this token gesture and didn't insist that we all give it a try. I had been working on a pout until I'd noticed that Daniel was turning a delicate shade of green. I'd thanked my lucky cats for a near miss.

Ritual greeting completed, we'd been invited to take seats in what I assume was the head tribesman's hut, a twee little affair that at least allowed us to escape some of the swarming insects. Daniel was the only one of us to do any of the actual talking of course, and after a few false starts appeared to find a common baseline upon which to build a dialogue. I did my best to aid the process by giving the group my most encouraging smile, nodding whenever it seemed appropriate.

It was about half an hour into proceedings that I began to suspect something wasn't quite right with our usually eloquent teammate. His words seemed to slow down instead of confidently picking up pace, as is often the case when he's mastering a dialect. Then they started running together somewhat, an effect not all that noticeable when he would speak to our hosts, but producing an endearing slur when he'd translate for us. He'd paused at one point and started blinking exaggeratedly as though he was having trouble focussing. A sheen of sweat had appeared on his upper lip that I'm not convinced was entirely due to the humidity.

"Everything okay?" I'd stage whispered from the corner of my mouth, being careful not to allow any of the elders to escape the full beam of my smile.

"Yeah," he'd said unconvincingly, swiping an unsteady hand over his face. "That stuff... I'm just... Wow." The way he'd said the word made it clear to me he definitely didn't mean the good kind of 'wow'.

I'm not entirely clear on how the situation escalated from there. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, if a bit slower than usual, and we'd exited the hut to begin what I think was supposed to be a tour of the village. By this point we'd attracted quite a crowd of gawkers who stared openly at our unusual clothing and weaponry. No doubt we were quite the sensation: most of the poor dears were barely clothed at all. I remember thinking they had the right idea. The heat was stifling.

I suppose in hindsight Daniel was looking a little unsteady by the time we'd crossed the square, but otherwise he gave no sign that anything was amiss. I was sticking close, but apart from sharing a few meaningful looks with Samantha, hadn't thought it necessary to intervene in any way. Perhaps I should have said something, but one never knows when interrupting the leaders of an unfamiliar society, especially while having the temerity to be female, could backfire. I've broken a fair few cultural taboos in my time, and I've found that one to be rarely worth the effort. Unlike some others I could describe. But I digress.

Although I may not have understood what was being said, from what I could glean from the body language of our hosts the conversation seemed to be continuing amiably enough. It was only when one of the elders started to gesture expansively towards the rest of us that I got the impression the atmosphere was changing in some subtle way, although I couldn't put my finger on how or why (such a lovely phrase).

And the rest, as they apparently say, is history. One of the men must have said something that Daniel didn't like, because in a reaction so stunningly unlike the man I know, he skewered the offender with his iciest glare and unhesitatingly responded with the derisive remark that set everything off. Quite a feat, considering what little practise he'd had with the dialect. If Cameron had been a millisecond slower, the incensed elder would have laid Daniel flat. As it was, our brave leader managed to intercept the thrown fist. With the side of his face.

I don't know how we got out of there without more injuries. It was a bit of a scramble. I think it was Teal'c who'd grabbed Daniel and frogmarched him away from the crowd, and it quickly became apparent that our shockingly undiplomatic negotiator was much the worse for wear. He couldn't, or perhaps _wouldn't_ , keep up with Teal'c, and as the need to move faster presented itself ahead of the war cries of angry villagers, it became necessary for Cam to take up his other side and help lift him along as we ran.

"What the hell just happened?" he'd shouted above the din, but we were too busy running for our lives to speculate at the time.

Daniel lurches alarmingly by my side and my foot goes over, dragging him some of the way down with me. He's been silent for the last half an hour or so now, and his coordination has deteriorated quite considerably. We've been gradually slowing our pace, but I'm starting to get pretty tired and my concentration has been wandering. Teal'c pulls us to a stop. "Are you injured?" he asks me gently.

I climb back to my feet and brush damp leaf litter from my knees. There's prickly stuff in my hair and soil in my boots. I briefly consider wiping the squishy thing on my hand off on my pants, then wipe it on Daniel's instead. "Just turned my ankle," I assure Teal'c. "But I'm fine." Daniel sways at Teal'c's side, his head hanging heavily.

Samantha jogs over to us with one last look over her shoulder. "I think they're falling back. Looks like they've chased us far enough."

I see Cameron considering this and assessing his wilting team. I try to look shiny and fresh, but I think the sweaty tendrils of hair plastered across my forehead give me away. Teal'c's dark skin is glistening in the sunlight filtering down on us from the lush canopy overhead, fairly drenched in sweat. Sam slaps distractedly at her neck and inspects her palm with a grimace. "Let's take five," he decides. "Reckon they'd have caught up with us by now if they really meant it."

Sam nods her agreement. "I'd like to take a look at Daniel."

Teal'c lowers Daniel and props him against the nearest tree, then takes up Sam's position guarding our rear. I crouch down beside our unusually quiet teammate as Sam kneels in front and tries to get his attention.

"Hey, Daniel, how's it going?" She lifts his chin and peers into his face. "Can you look at me for a sec?"

He blinks at her blearily and finds a lazy smile. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey there. How are you doing? Are you feeling nauseated at all? Any pain?"

He throws his head from side to side as though it's twice its normal weight. "M' okay," he assures her.

"Can you tell us what happened?"

He thinks about this seriously for a moment and I get the impression he's not understood the question. "Everything's... spin-y," he finally announces gravely.

Sam cocks an eyebrow at the non sequitur and mouths the new word to me quizzically. I shrug.

She lays the back of her hand against his forehead and fusses round him, peeling back eyelids and pressing on pulse points. He watches her do all of this with placid detachment and then asks her where Jack is.

The question makes Sam pause. "Sweetie, General O'Neill's not here with us this time, remember? He's in Washington now."

Gauging by the way his eyes narrow in confusion, Daniel doesn't look like he remembers at all, but he nods jerkily anyway.

"Sure you're alright?" Sam asks with a frown, leaning fractionally closer to see for herself. It's all the invitation Daniel needs to pull her into a sloppy hug.

"Sam," he gushes from somewhere amongst the folds of her tac vest. "I missed you."

"Woah, okay." She returns the hug with a concerned look at me and makes a 'help me' face. "I love you too, Daniel. I'm not going anywhere." Guiding him back against the tree, she unscrews the cap on her canteen and raises it to his eye line. "Think you can drink some water?"

Once she has the canteen stable in his hands Daniel gulps desperately like he hasn't seen water in days. With some cajoling she manages to extract it from his grip again and he sighs deeply, his chin dropping leadenly to his chest.

"Don't go to sleep yet, okay?"

"Mmmhmm."

Sam sits back on her haunches and turns to me. "Keep him talking while I talk to the others."

There was a time not so long ago when this would have been an opportunity too good to waste. I'd have been the first person to wade in with some remorseless ribbing, perhaps the odd ribald joke. But the thought of that now is distasteful. It's become so very important to me to gain this man's trust, so hard won but like sweet relief after years of punishing self-reliance, that the risk of jeopardising that now is unthinkable. He can be prickly and sometimes fierce with me (and I admit I actively provoke him in a good proportion of those instances), but also gentle and understanding, and at times painfully vulnerable. It would be heartless to take advantage of him now when he can't defend himself, and besides, where would be the fun in that?

"I can't understand it," I can hear Sam saying behind us. "As far as I can tell, I think he's just..."

"Three sheets to the wind?" Cameron suggests.

"Right. I'd say that was impossible from what little we saw him drink, but, well..."

"Not been known to break into song while sober, huh?"

"Not so much, no."

Tuning out their conversation, I lightly tap Daniel's cheek to rouse him. "What happened to the lovely singing, Daniel? You were keeping us all in such high spirits earlier, and now you've gone disappointingly quiet." I grin to let him know I'm teasing. In fact his merry stage hadn't lasted very long at all, what with the necessity to save breath for the running we'd forced him to do, but if things hadn't been quite so fraught at the time I'm sure we'd all have appreciated such a rare treat much more fully.

"Vala." Apparently it's my turn for a hug and he swamps me with his arms. This would be the cuddly, maudlin stage of inebriation, then. I should have guessed that Daniel would be an introspective drunk. When it doesn't seem as though he's going to release me and the seconds start to stretch uncomfortably, I push on his chest until he slumps back against the tree. "Daniel, darling, you're embarrassing me," I laugh playfully.

He makes a wobbly shushing gesture and presses his fingers clumsily across my mouth. "We shouldn't fight, Vala," he tells me very seriously.

"Darling, we don't fight, we trade banter. It's all in good fun."

"No but, I... Sometimes I..." He seems to lose the thread of his thoughts and presses a hand to his head to hold it still.

I can see where this is going.

"Let's talk about this another time when you're feeling a bit more yourself, alright?"

He shakes his head with the surly determination of the drunken. "I _am_ myself," he insists and clutches heavily at my jacket, pulling me forward so he can brace his forehead against my clavicle. As he mumbles something unintelligible into my chest I realise the others are watching us and rub his back self-consciously.

Teal'c finally rescues me and plants a hand firmly on Daniel's shoulder. "We must continue, Daniel Jackson. I will assist you."

Once Teal'c has him upright again he seems suddenly to recognise his friend. "Teal'c! Um, where're we goin'?"

"We must return to the Stargate. It is not much farther."

"Oh, sure," he agrees absently.

"You good to go, Princess?" I treat Cameron to another one of my thumbs up as I take a quick swig from my own canteen. He throws me a mischievous wink and I know that he's heard every word.

"Hello, you," Daniel welcomes me as I fit my body back into my place next to his. He stumbles again but catches himself this time with a giggle and a goofy 'oops'.

"Oh, hello," I play along. "Where did you come from?"

He smiles at me like I've said the cutest thing he's ever heard, then gazes at my face for at little while. I do my best to pretend not to notice. A tangle of slippery tree branches threatens to bring us to grief for a moment, but with some careful manoeuvring we manage to find our way through without incident. Daniel doesn't look away from my face once and I feel my cheeks heating without my permission. "I think you're 'm... 'mazing," he eventually confides in a whisper that's embarrassingly loud.

A guilty little thrill zings through my body. "Can I get that in writing?"

He decides his point is not getting across and tries to move closer to me despite Teal'c's grip. "No, really," he insists. "I do."

I can't help my delighted little laugh and I reward him with a reassuring squeeze to his wrist. "Watch where you're putting your feet or you'll trip me up again," I chide him. "And I have to respectfully disagree. You think I'm a pain in your behind, as you've told me on more than one occasion. No, don't pout. You only like me now because you've forgotten about last week's mail order unpleasantness. And that time I accidentally changed your computer password. And the unfortunate incident with the gum. Anyway, I'm sure it will all come flooding back later."

There's an amused snicker, presumably from Cam.

I watch Daniel's face carefully from the corner of my eye. His brows pull together and he looks like he wants to argue. His attempt to stop and do just that is foiled by the momentum of our much larger teammate. He peers over at Teal'c as if surprised to find him still there and pulls experimentally on his restrained arm. "This is not nesh... nessessh... I can walk."

Teal'c lifts an incredulous eyebrow but is too polite to comment.

"We know you can, darling, but let us help. There are roots and things." I gesture vaguely at the ground.

I can see from his expression that Daniel interprets this as generosity akin to the promise that we'll buy back all his stolen Christmas presents and then take him to Disneyland to boot. "You guys are so great," he tells us all, and it's so heartfelt it's painful.

Cameron barks with laughter and hangs back long enough to give Daniel a slap on the back. "Jackson, you are officially... What's the word I'm looking for? Someone help me out here."

"Sozzled?" Sam offers from behind us.

"Adorable?" I chip in.

"Trashed," Cam announces with finality. He gives Daniel a playful thump to the shoulder. "Did you see their faces back there? Didn't know he had it in him."

"Daniel Jackson does not usually drink to excess," Teal'c intones sombrely. "His earlier outburst was very much out of character, and I am certain he will regret his actions once he is recovered."

"Yeah, no doubt. Not to mention the sore head he's gonna have. But you know what? I'm _impressed_ , Sunshine. Could have done without the knuckle sandwich, though. Maybe next time you feel a blue streak coming on you could settle for flipping them off instead."

Daniel releases an explosive snuffle of laughter at this and staggers slightly. Cam grins. "No need to look so damned pleased with yourself," he admonishes.

As we continue to negotiate our way through the palm fronds and trailing lianas, Daniel begins to lean on me more heavily. I'm struggling to hold up my side now, I don't mind admitting. When he digs his heels in without warning, the three of us come perilously close to face-planting the jungle floor.

Looking suddenly rather pale, Daniel takes a couple of deep breaths. Cameron returns to us and searches his face like he already knows what he's going to find. "I, um... I think I'm gonna... Oh, God..."

"He's gonna hurl!"

In an astonishingly deft move that makes me suspect Cameron has done this sort of thing before now, he plucks Daniel from our grip, spins him around and plants him firmly on his hands and knees in the bushes, holding him up by his shoulders as he begins to retch.

I wince and turn away from the pitiful sounds of misery, inadvertently locking eyes with Sam. Her face mirrors my own. She doesn't particularly enjoy hearing him tossing his pastries, either.

"My mission report's gonna make for some interesting reading," Cameron grins at us over his shoulder. I get the impression he's rather enjoying himself despite everything. "Man, I wish we had a camera."

"That's cruel, Mitchell. Even for you." The twitch pulling at the corner of her mouth betrays Sam's words somewhat.

"Hey, I've been there," he responds, and my fondness for the man only increases.

When it looks as though he's done, Cam steers Daniel away from the mess and encourages him to sit. "How far are we from the 'gate?" he asks us, and Sam estimates we have no more than fifteen minutes of walking time to go. There has been no more sign of our lynch mob, which is just as well.

We each take the opportunity to drink more water, and I help Daniel to wash out his mouth. The poor thing looks completely exhausted and as though just two more steps may be beyond him. His head starts to drop and I reach out to steady him.

"No. No sleeping yet. We're almost there. You'll be upset if Muscles has to carry you." I try to think of something I can say to engage his attention. "What could those poor villagers possibly have done to deserve such colourful language, anyway? It was all going so well."

He gazes up at me unsteadily and I almost have to look away from the raw earnestness in his eyes.

"No one shoo shay..." He makes an angry little sound and tries again. "No one should say... that. About... about you." He brings a wavering finger up to push his glasses back towards his face, misses by a wide margin and pokes himself beside his left eye.

I carefully remove them altogether and hook them on the neckline of his T-shirt, giving them a gentle pat. A procrastination to give myself the time I need to breathe through the sudden clenching behind my ribcage. I need to decide carefully how I'm going to handle this. My smile is still more watery than I would like and my voice catches just ever so slightly when I say, "My hero."

He looks back at me so miserably that I'm immediately sure I've said the wrong thing, but there's no time to make it better. Cameron arrives and breaks the spell with his usual brand of cheery camaraderie. "Come on, big guy," he says, looping an arm over his shoulders and heaving. "Up we go."

This time when I hurry to catch up and take my place on his other side, Daniel stays quiet. 

xxx

My foot taps nervously on the shiny floor of the corridor, just above a particularly long scuff mark left by somebody's patent leather shoe. Somebody in a hurry, probably, which wouldn't be unusual just here. Everyone always seems to be in such a great big rush around the infirmary.

Everyone, that is, except my teammates. They've been in there _forever_. The plastic seat is really starting to hurt my tailbone now and I want to have my turn. It nearly killed me to wait so that I could see him without an audience, and twice I almost changed my mind and went in with the others. I'm working myself up to burst in there again when there's finally movement in the doorway.

Cameron comes out first, cocking an imaginary gun at me as he walks past. He wears his impressive shiner like a badge of honor. "All yours, Princess."

Teal'c, looking as serene as ever, inclines his head to me and joins him. Sam lingers in the doorway momentarily, then produces a warm smile for me as I fidget in my chair.

"Word of advice?" she says as she approaches me, her eyes kind. "Try to keep the volume _down_."

I can't help the nervous little laugh that escapes. "Right! Of course. You got it. Nice and quiet." Shut up shut up shut up. I fidget some more until Sam disappears around the corner, then take a deep breath.

I hover at the door to the room and find with relief that it's mostly empty. Daniel is in a bed at the far end and appears to be asleep. I creep over as quietly as a rodent and slowly lower myself onto the fancy-looking stool by his bed. The teeth-grating squeak it makes is painfully loud and seems to draw out for an eternity. I hold my breath and cringe.

"Hi, Vala." It's amazing how he does that. He hasn't even opened his eyes.

"Sorry," I mouth, holding myself in an awkward position in an effort to prevent any more unwelcome noises. I compose myself and start again, pitching my voice to what I hope is low, soothing and solicitous. "How are you feeling?"

He groans like a dying animal and I imagine he probably feels like one too. "Like I'm suffering all the hangovers I've ever had in my life, all at once, while a herd of apoplectic elephants stampedes across my brain." I'm not entirely sure I know what an apoplectic elephant is, but it sounds positively unpleasant. "And embarrassed. Really, really embarrassed."

He cracks one eye open and casts a squinty look in my direction. I can't help but smile at the forlorn expression he's wearing.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, silly. You couldn't help it."

"Oh I think there is. Most of it's fuzzy, but I distinctly remember throwing up at one point, and Mitchell said there was... singing. God."

I hide a struggling grin discreetly behind my fist as Daniel presses his hand over his eyes, shielding them from what little light there is in this dim corner of the room. He looks thoroughly miserable. I should tell him that it was more like humming really, but I don't think he'd appreciate the distinction. Our dear Cameron will have a delicious mountain of blackmail material at his disposal now. I school my features into the very picture of empathy.

"Don't worry about it, Daniel. What's a bit of vomit between friends, after all?" I pat his other hand sympathetically and he peeks out between his fingers suspiciously.

"Easy for you to say," he mutters. "You weren't the one making a complete jackass out of himself."

"Oh honestly, it wasn't that bad."

I can tell he's not going to let himself off the hook that easily. "Right, well then what about getting us into that mess in the first place? What the hell was I thinking? I've alienated an entire society on first contact, jeopardised a potential trade partnership for the kassa hybrid we desperately need, and I put us all in very real danger. It's inexcusable."

He thumps his head back onto the pillow with a pained grunt. He's working up a good head of steam now. He's still too angry with himself to see the funny side of it all. I pull his fist from where he's knuckling furiously at his eye socket and open his hand in mine, pressing my thumbs along the groves of his palm.

"Really darling, none of that matters now. There was no real harm done. You weren't feeling yourself and we know that. No one blames you but _you_."

He sighs and rubs his face with his free hand. "I'm sorry. I don't usually lay on the self-pity so thick. Guess it's the headache."

"My. Your inhibitions really have been lowered. Such a rare word."

"Headache?" he mocks weakly.

I slap my forehead with feigned exasperation. "And to think, we didn't even ask them for their recipe!"

He scowls and mimics my words in a childish parody, but his heart's not really in it. A poor effort, but I remind myself that he's not at his best just now.

"You know," I continue, "I think those people were more surprised to be told off by such a mild-mannered soul than they were by the coarse language. What a shock you gave them, poor creatures!"

Daniel looks mildly uncomfortable to hear me defending them, and I wonder - not for the first time - what they'd said about me to make him react that way. He says nothing, and I know this is not something he's going to reveal to me. Apart from anything else, that would be dangerously close to admitting he cares.

"I wonder what would have happened if it had been Cameron on the receiving end of their little prank. Do you think he's a rowdy drunk? You never can tell sometimes."

Daniel huffs. "No. I expect he'd have been the life of the party. We'd still be there, chumming it up like life-long friends."

"My point is, you may have been rude, but at least you didn't hit anybody. They were the ones who chose to do that."

He shrugs noncommittally.

"Talk about overreaction. Honestly, all that fuss over a silly insult! There was no need to break out the pitchforks."

I spot the ghost of a smile that he tries to hide and feel victory within my grasp.

"They'll think twice before inflicting their vile brew on unsuspecting strangers now, I can tell you."

He checks again to make sure I'm laughing with him, not at him, then smirks tentatively. "They woke a monster, didn't they?"

"Oh, I don't know. Apart from the swearing and the upchucking, I thought you were quite delightful."

He flushes an attractive shade of pink at this and tries to pull his hand out of mine, but I hold my ground and continue my massage. I'm enjoying myself now and pleased to feel my earlier tension easing away.

I can see him watching me carefully with furtive sideways glances, but I pretend to be absorbed in my task. I meet his eyes innocently when he finally turns to me.

"Vala..." He stops abruptly and quickly looks away, but not before he catches the hopeful look I couldn't quite disguise in time.

"Yes?" I prompt him. He starts plucking at the turned up sheet imprisoning him in the bed and avoids my eyes.

"I'm sorry if..." He takes a quick breath and I have time to think 'there's that word again'. "I'm sorry if I said anything I shouldn't have. I'm afraid I don't really remember." The fact that he's bringing this up tells me that isn't quite true, but I wouldn't dream of saying so. It's not like we both don't know it.

I wait until he looks at me again before I reply. I want him to understand how much this strange little friendship of ours means to me and to impart this in my next few words. This is the moment I've been waiting for since we got back, the moment my impatient feet were tapping out for under that cold and uncomfortable chair in the hallway. I've been afraid I'd destroyed something too fragile to repair - broken some sacred rule in this private little game between us - with my falsely flippant comment back on that planet. He'd had his defences stripped away from him, and I'd allowed him to batter himself against mine instead. That won't do.

"You didn't," I say simply. Quite the opposite, I want to add, but that wouldn't be appropriate just now. I wish I could tell him I'd like it if we could be more honest with each other all the time. "In fact I'm flattered." He looks at me again, surprised this time. "So I suppose... Thank you."

He smiles at me then - a genuine, unchecked smile - and it's like the sun coming out from behind a bank of clouds. It takes my breath away like it always does. I need to work on coaxing it out of its jealously guarded hiding place a little more often.

"You're welcome," he tells me shyly.

Praise be. I'm forgiven, and the relief is almost overwhelming.

We sit there smiling at each other like it's the most natural thing in the world for all of two painfully short seconds before we remember ourselves, and a significant part of me mourns the loss when Daniel awkwardly averts his gaze.

I'm almost sorry to do it, but we really must get back on our usual course if we're to keep our dignity. It's another of our unarticulated little rules. We must keep up appearances.

I flick a ponytail over my shoulder imperiously and preen slightly. "I've even forgiven you for copping a feel, not that I can blame you. I'm surprised you've lasted as long as you have to be honest."

His look of stunned mortification is picture-worthy, and when I wink at him suggestively he takes a swipe at me that misses by a good inch.

"That's not funny, Vala." I disagree, but I keep that thought to myself. "Go. Let me die in peace."

Still grinning, I run a hand over his hair which he waves away impatiently and stand to leave.

"Oh, and be nice to the poor nurses, won't you? Try not to make them cry with that potty mouth of yours."

I don't wait long enough for him to reply and just catch the face he pulls as I flounce out the door.

Status quo is restored. My work here is done.

END


End file.
